


Into the Daylight

by esteefee



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Break Up, Episode: s04e19 Ku I Ka Pili Koko (Blood Brothers), F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 05:59:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16362188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esteefee/pseuds/esteefee
Summary: After the building collapse, Danny does a reassessment.  A coda toKu I Ka Pili Koko.





	Into the Daylight

Driving home from the hospital after getting his wound cleaned out and stitched up, Danny jokes around with Grace, joshing her about her dad being a graboid, a terrible creature who lives under the Earth and has emerged with the sole purpose to eat French fries. Amber is smiling tremulously at them both from the driver's seat, hands at ten and two, and all Danny can think is, _Fuck. Fuck._ Because he lost something down there while trapped under that building. Left it behind. Cracked himself open like an egg, and everything spilled loose and ran out into the dust and dirt and cement.

He needs to go back. Back to before he confessed to Steve and realized the truth. Because now that he knows, he's hollow inside and flying apart. 

_"Do me a favor and for once in your life, pretend you're a human being and take the situation for what it is."_

But Steve hadn't. Steve is apparently constitutionally incapable of doing a few simple things, like seeing reality, like accepting fate, or like giving up. But Danny doesn't know how he does that. They're like matter and anti-matter. All he knows is, this hollow ache in his guts has been growing stronger the further they drive away from Steve. And Danny can no longer deny it. 

_"That would be a compelling argument, my friend, if you weren't afraid of absolutely everything."_

Fear isn't enough anymore to keep him in the dark.

"And two biggie fries, am I right?" Amber looks the question at Danny, and Danny waves a yes, closing his eyes. There's grit under his shirt and digging into every pore of his body. He badly needs to get clean, but he needs food first. And the doctor had told him to take it easy on his rib—probably cracked—which means no hot bath because he's not even sure he could get up from the tub after he sits down. Despite the pain medication, every muscle in his body has stiffened and locked up into a vice of pain.

"Danno, are you okay?" Grace leans her chin on his shoulder, and Danny knuckles her cheek.

"Of course I am; are you kidding? It takes more than a mushed up building to get the monster graboid. Now, you think you can eat the whole burger this time?"

"I think so. I'm pretty hungry."

"All right." They pull around to the takeout window and Danny automatically starts to reach in his back pocket for his wallet before he realizes what a mistake it is. "Ow," he says.

"I've got it, Danny," Amber says, and pays for the meal, dropping a huge paper bag beside him before handing him a cold cup. "Shake," she says in explanation. "Papaya."

He wants to ask what's wrong with good old-fashioned vanilla, but he doesn't really have the energy to raise a ruckus. He'd like to, though. Ruckuses should always be raised about papaya shakes when chocolate or vanilla will do, and he turns his head to roll his eyes at Grace, who grins, dimples dotting her cheeks.

"Danno likes vanilla," Gracie says, bless her; his child is a class act. "He thinks fruit should only be eaten straight."

"Oh. I'm sorry," Amber says. She's very sweet. And very young. Sometimes Danny gets exhausted just looking at her. And that was before the explosion and his little revelation. He closes his eyes and takes a sip of his shake. It's not that terrible, actually. It's just not his preference. But he needs to get something in his stomach pronto. The fries smell so good it's an actual living torment to ride home next to them without diving in. It's only the awareness he's been digging through dirt and mud and God knows what kind of sewage all day that keeps him from grabbing some straight from the bag. But finally they pull into the driveway, and Danny pushes the door open and eases himself out of the car. 

Amber rushes around to the passenger side to get her arm around his waist and help him to his feet, and suddenly Danny flashes to himself in forty years, and her helping the old man get to the john.

"I'm cool. Get the bag; we're all starving," Danny says, and she pulls away, her face falling again. Danny turns away and starts shuffling toward the front door. Grace runs to the door, then runs back to him and takes his hand and walks with him. 

"I was scared, Danno," she whispers, confiding as Amber goes ahead to open up.

"I know, monkey," Danny says. He squeezes her hand. "I'm not going anywhere, though. I promise." It's a promise he's made a thousand times in many different ways. He can say it with a clear conscience because Grace needs to hear it. If anything ever did happen to him, she's strong enough to handle it. He comforts himself with that thought over and over again, that his girl is one tough cookie. Not that he and Rachel can take credit—Grace is Grace. 

She squeezes back and then lets go and charges ahead into the house. Danny uses the doorsill to help himself over the threshold, then goes straight into the kitchen to wash his hands in the sink. He rolls his shirtsleeves—what's left of them—up to his elbows and washes his forearms, scrubs hard under his fingernails, and washes his face too, before rinsing with hot water. His various cuts and scrapes complain under the harsh treatment, but it feels good to be at least partially clean.

After shaking his hands dry, he shuffles over to the kitchen table where Grace and Amber have laid out real dishes and napkins for the takeout. 

"What have we here?" Danny says, sitting down heavily. "A smorgasbord? And what vintage are we pairing with this fine cuisine?"

"You can share my vanilla, Danno," Grace says, opening her shake to pour some into Danny's glass. 

"Thanks, monkey," Danny says. With his better arm, he raises his glass in a toast and clacks it against Amber's and Grace's. But he's suddenly without words. All the easy ones have fled his mind, because he can't say, 'Here's to surviving'—that would freak Grace out. And more than that, what he wants to say is, 'No more fears.' He doesn't want to be afraid anymore. 

Finally, he says roughly, "Thanks for being there," and they smile and drink.

Then, at long last, Danny gets to eat his fries. Amber had warmed them up again in the microwave, so they're hot, and so delicious. Just salty enough, if a little less crispy than they could be. The burger is so-so, but the fries are everything, especially when he starts in with the ketchup. Amber is laughing at him, so he knows he's making noises. Grace is grinning and nibbling on her fries from one end to the other; she doesn't just stick a whole fry in her mouth.

Danny has finished his burger and is eating the last of the too-brown, too-crispy fries when Amber says, "I guess I should go."

And this is when Danny knows he has to do it. He has to stop being afraid, just like Steve said. A safety blanket can suffocate as easily as it comforts. 

"I'll walk you out," he says, and he hears it in his tone. It's been there since they left the bombsite, but now it's like the sharp side of a razor. 

Amber's nods, wide-eyed, and precedes him out to her car. 

"Let's get inside," he says, because this isn't a conversation for the neighbors. 

"Danny, I'm sorry I brought Grace to the site. I know you asked me to protect her but she kept insisting—"

"It's fine, Amber. That's not what I wanted to talk to you about." He presses his hand down against the bandage on his right side. The wound is aching badly and he kind of wishes he'd put this off until later. But that's not the way he gets things done. Go with the momentum, and he's got it right now, right here—Amber needs to know the truth. It's only fair. 

"I'm sorry," he says. "Things happen to your mind when you're trapped like, a mile underground and you have certain death tap-dancing on your ribcage. You get to thinking about things you don't usually think about. And it's not fair to you, because up until now I think we've been having a pretty good run, despite your ex-husband showing up because that was a bit of a surprise." Danny pauses and then draws back when he sees the tears shimmering in Amber's eyes. "Hey, hey. That wasn't your fault, okay? He was the asshole. You're a good person, and you've put up with a lot from me. But being trapped down there I took a look at myself and I wasn't happy with what I saw."

"Danny, I don't know why you'd say that. You're a terrific guy," Amber says, the tears spilling from her eyes. 

"Well, think about it—how many times have I stood you up or just disappeared without explaining why? I've been kind of a selfish dick. And you're too nice to say anything about it. But you deserve better than that. So, this is me saying I can't do this anymore. I can't be a dick anymore. I'm sorry, Amber."

"So you're going to be an asshole and break up with me?" She sniffles and angrily rubs her hand over her eyes.

"Yeah. Better to be an asshole once than a dick all the time." 

That makes her chuckle a little, and Danny smiles. "I really care about you; you know that, right?" 

"Maybe." She assesses him with reddened eyes. "I thought you were going to die today." She shrugs. "But I guess I lost you anyway."

"Oh, man. C'mere." He waits until she leans toward him and then hugs her as best he can and drops a kiss on her head. "I'll call you, okay?"

Amber shakes her head and pulls away. "Not for a while, all right, Danny? Give me some time."

"Okay. Okay." He gets out of the car again slowly and then watches her drive away before going back to the house.

He feels free. Sad, yeah, but lighter. He doesn't have to worry about disappointing her anymore. It's time he worried about disappointing himself. And maybe things are a little complicated, considering Steve's in a serious relationship with a wonderful gal, but Danny isn't going to fight against being happy anymore. Maybe it's not in his DNA, but he's at least going to give himself a chance, and that means clearing the decks for luck.

He's always been just a little bit lucky.

:::

"You broke up with her?" Steve says a week later when Danny shows up back at work, his stitches out and his sore rib a little better. "What happened to giving it a shot?" Steve looks genuinely distressed, like Danny's happiness really matters to him. That's the thing—Danny knows how much it does. Ever since they first met, Steve's always tried his damnedest to make Danny happy. And Danny's always pushed him away, every single time.

"Don't worry about it," Danny says now. "It's all part of the plan."

"Oh it is, is it?" Steve shakes his head. "I really thought you'd learned your lesson this time."

"I have; believe me," Danny says under his breath. "Come on. I'll buy you a cup of coffee."

Steve flashes a smile. "Yeah, okay, brah. You look better, anyway," he says, giving Danny a gentle nudge. 

"Yup. I'm doing just fine," Danny says, and leads him out the door and into the sunshine.

 

............................  
August 8, 2015  
San Francisco, CA


End file.
